


sometimes a journey makes itself necessary

by QuickYoke



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 13:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11807022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickYoke/pseuds/QuickYoke
Summary: crisis averted, and they've come home at last





	sometimes a journey makes itself necessary

 

> _"Sometimes a journey makes itself necessary" - Anne Carson, Red Doc_
> 
>  

* * *

* * *

 

 

In a Martian military drop ship, Bobbie’s first trip to Earth had been a shuddering free fall through atmo. The planet approached shielded by the metal blackened hull, pulling her down into a deep unknown, the straps of her seat digging into her shoulders as if her body wished to remain behind in the ink-dark vastness of space. Now, she hardly felt a jitter in this sleek Earth vessel that couldn’t be attributed to her own nerves. Now, she stared out a tall window, standing straight and stiff, her arms tucked sharply behind the small of her back. Now more than ever, she missed the weight of her Goliath power armour and the Earth seemed to hurtle towards her like a blue marble flicked through the stars by the thumb of God.

“You look like shit,” a voice said behind her. Bobbie whirled around in a smart about-face to find Chrisjen approaching with a mug of steaming tea in hand. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bobbie muttered half under her breath. She gave a pointed look to the dark circles beneath Chrisjen’s eyes, the heavy lines of her face deepened from stress.

With a graceless snort, Chrisjen came to a halt at her side and admired the view of the Earth in silence. At the best of times, Bobbie felt massive, but around Chrisjen the whisper of her self-conscious childhood came roaring back with a vengeance. Years of clearing tables with her elbows, of knocking aside lamps and tripping over her own gormless ankles. She battled them back by straightening her shoulders and falling into her old habit of going at rigid attention until the top of Chrisjen’s perfectly coiffed head barely reached Bobbie’s shoulder.

“Oh relax, won’t you?” Chrisjen grumbled as she sipped at her tea. “I’m not one of your goddamn Generals.”

“Sorry, ma’am.” Bobbie straightened some more before deliberately hunching her shoulders in a pantomime of relaxation.

“And -- for fuck’s sake -- stop apologising.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I mean -- Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am.”

Bobbie did not point out that Chrisjen could say ‘jump’ and all of her old Generals would ask ‘how high?’ She did not point out that Chrisjen wore her hand-tailored, gold-stitched sari like a uniform more imposing than any armoured combatant Bobbie had encountered during her decade of military service. She did not point out that Chrisjen owned Bobbie’s loyalty in a way her Generals never had, that -- after all they’d been through, all the shit and muck and glamourless storm that seized the solar system -- she would have gladly laid her life at Chrisjen’s feet, if it meant Chrisjen could walk across her back rather than through a puddle on the ground.

A slant of vibrant blue light reflected from the Earth’s atmosphere, casting Chrisjen in a slow-moving glow that seemed to float until she appeared to be descending into water, suspended from gravity. Without looking over, Chrisjen held out the cup of tea towards Bobbie, an unspoken offering. Curls of steam threaded the air. Hesitant, Bobbie took it and without a handle she could not help that their hands touched in the exchange. A hint of Chrisjen’s dark lipstick reddened one side of the brim.

“Thank you,” Bobbie mumbled. She turned the cup around to take a sip and a burst of vibrant flavour hit her tongue, spices Bobbie had only ever heard about and read about. A riot of cinnamon and cloves, masala and cardamom, nutmeg and other earthy textures stirred through with honest to God milk.

Chrisjen watched Bobbie’s face light up before looking back towards the Earth, clasping her hands together in an officious manner over her stomach. Heaving a relieved sigh, her brow softened somewhat as she watched the Earth approach. “It’s good to be back.”

“Yeah,” Bobbie breathed, then froze. She had agreed reflexively, but she hadn’t intended to actually _mean_ it. Clearing her throat, she drained what remained of the tea, nearly choking on the scalding heat, the lurid riot of taste.

Chrisjen appraised Bobbie out of the corner of her eye. Twelve years serving as a Martian marine and yet Bobbie still couldn’t completely throttle the urge to squirm under the intensity of Chrisjen Avasarala’s scrutiny. She fiddled with the cup in lieu of meeting Chrisjen’s eye. Turning to face Bobbie fully, Chrisjen cocked her head and took a step closer. Something unfathomable flickered in her dark gaze and the warmth of it sent a shiver running straight down Bobbie’s spine. Reaching out, Chrisjen gently took the ceramic cup back, pausing to brush their cool fingers together. Bobbie almost dropped the cup and the corner of Chrisjen’s mouth twitched in amusement.

Never in her whole life could Bobbie have envisaged this moment. Serving Earth’s premiere servant of state. Returning from the journey of a lifetime in which they settled an extra-solar threat to humanity and somehow secured peace between Earth, Mars and the Belt. Wishing above all else that she could remain here, in this moment, flung out of space and time, forever at Chrisjen’s side, at Chrisjen’s limitless mercy.

Finally, Chrisjen murmured softly, her voice low and throaty, “Draper?”

Bobbie swallowed thickly, her throat suddenly very dry, and croaked, “Yes, ma’am?”

Chrisjen tapped the empty cup against Bobbie’s sternum. “You drank all my fucking tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was a drabble someone asked for on my tumblr with a prompt


End file.
